


I Wanna Fly (And Pick Up All The Pieces Of This Broken Heart Tonight)

by imnotmadeofeyes



Category: Bandom, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kind of Canon Compliant, M/M, but honestly no it isn't, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotmadeofeyes/pseuds/imnotmadeofeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Kellin, by now, spends most of his nights at Justin's.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Justin is there whenever Kellin needs taking care of - and he needs taking care of a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Fly (And Pick Up All The Pieces Of This Broken Heart Tonight)

**Author's Note:**

> So, uhm, a friend of mine and I have been stringing ideas together for this pairing for a while now. I've been feeling down lately, because mood swings and all that, and as always I compensate my sadness in writing. Anyways, so we had this idea that Justin is always there for Kellin when he needs him, and obviously it didn't really fit because Justin is like, five years younger than Kellin? But I made them the same age and wrote this and it was supposed to be a drabble and now you've got 3k words of angst there.  
> As always, I would love it if you would leave some feedback on my writing because as always, this isn't beta'd and I love getting to know what you think of my work. Also notice that you can love a person without being in love with them. It's a big difference and important as fuck in the story.  
>  _Anyways, this goes out to you, Lissa. I know you'll see this._
> 
> Title taken from Fly by Sleeping With Sirens.

Kellin, by now, spends most of his nights at Justin's. It's not even a question. The flat Justin lives in with his mum and his six year-old sister is small and cramped and they don't have much, but they still take Kellin in whenever he needs it; and he needs it a lot now. Justin is the only person that knows about the problems Kellin has at home, even though he's far from Kellin's only friend. They have a small clique, with Gabe, Jack and Jesse, as well as some others in and out of it as they please, and all of them have known each other for years, ever since Justin moved here after his mum finally left his asshole of a dad. They're close, trust each other, have each other's backs. Yet, Justin is the one Kellin goes to, and he's the one who takes him in every other night.

Sometimes, there are good nights. Kellin turns up pretty early, sometimes even with a few things he could pack before he left, and they spend the night doing what boys do, lazing around, playing video games, watching movies, sometimes making a bit of music on Justin's tattered guitar because they like music. Even rarer are those occasions where they do homework – but yes, that does happen as well. Good nights are when they fall asleep silently, still touching under the covers but not strung together as tightly as they sometimes are. Justin loves the good nights, because Kellin is smiling then, smiling and joking and being generally gorgeous, and he loves seeing Kellin like this.

Ignorant nights are pretty much the same. Kellin arrives brooding, a dark look on his face, but before a greeting all Justin gets is an 'I don't want to talk about it', and so Justin gives his best to distract him from whatever has happened. Video games always work, but sometimes that's not enough and so they end up having sex on Justin's tiny bed, the lights turned down low so Justin doesn't see all the bruises forming on Kellin's skinny body. Mostly, Kellin is distant and silent even after, and sometimes they fall asleep without touching each other, but they still drift towards each other's bodies throughout the night. It's like Kellin's guard goes down when he falls asleep, and then lets himself be comforted through Justin's touch.

Then, there are the loud angry nights. Kellin never has stuff on him, then, no more than the clothes he's wearing, because angry nights mean he argued with his father again, and they shouted at each other before the man so much as tried to lift his hand against Kellin who dashes out then, angry, and runs all the seven blocks over to Justin. He's always out of breath and sweaty, and he uses Justin to let off steam. Sometimes, he kicks and screams into the pillows of Justin's bed until he's calmed down again; most times, he lets himself be fucked into the mattress by his best friend, and their sex leaves a whole different kind of marks on his scarred, bruised skin. Justin does it with pleasure, fucking Kellin, even though he's not quite sure how that started. All he knows is that they've been regularly hooking up for like, a year or something, and that it never got weird between them because they both love each other but aren't in love, and that's just what Justin needs in his life. And so he gives Kellin what he needs, and never fails to calm him down through that.

There are silent angry nights as well. Kellin comes to Justin's door bruised, sometimes bloody because he and his father argued, but he hasn't managed to get away quite quick enough. It's Justin's task to get him cleaned up then, tend to all his wounds while Kellin just sits there and broods. They always fuck in these nights, and while Justin was hesitant to be rough with his best friend in the beginning, he knows that he needs it most in those nights – the drag of teeth and fingernails over his skin, squeezing, marking, the rough drag from just a tad too little lube. Never slaps, though – Justin could never slap Kellin. They fall asleep tightly entangled then, because after the anger always follows the loneliness and hurt, and Justin holds Kellin close to his body because he can't stand the idea of this precious human hurting. Justin doesn't like the angry nights, because he often feels helpless then. He's not good in dealing with situations that can't be solved with a jest or a grin, that are so serious they take his breath away and he just can't deal with seriousness in general, okay? He's a clown, not a counsellor. He's still always there for Kellin.

That's not all, though – on top of that come the sad nights. They are mostly usually around holidays, his mum's birthday or the day she left, because then Kellin feels the most alone, feels the most overwhelmed with his situation. He doesn't even have a reason for leaving his home, then, he's just sad and lonely and he wants Justin to hold him. Sometimes, he has fresh bruises over his body and Justin has to look after them, but they still end up in bed as soon as possible. He always lends Kellin his clothes, but for these nights there are a special pair of extra-soft sweatpants and an oversized, old, fluffy sweatshirt that is Justin's favourite as well as Kellin's reserved. Justin wraps Kellin up in his arms, then, holds him close when the tears come and stain his t-shirt or sweatshirt, his neck, his chest, whatever Kellin decides to bury his face in. He can't do anything but run his hands over Kellin's body and through his hair, sometimes hum quietly a bit, and offer him the silent comfort that has his heart breaking with every tear that leaves Kellin's eyes.

The worst nights are those in which Kellin doesn't even turn up at Justin's doorstep in the evening. It's not uncommon to begin with, because Kellin doesn't spend every night at the Hills household, only many, like three or four per week. So Justin doesn't worry when one evening, Kellin doesn't turn up. He does what he always does when he's alone – plays video games, watches tv shows, listens to music, masturbates, the usual. He doesn't get a nagging feeling that so many movies or books show in situations like this; not until his phone buzzes. In their clique, with all of their friends, they only ever text – they've got that one big group chat, but they also chat privately, one on one, because sometimes they don't feel up to talking to all of them or it doesn't concern all of them. When he gets a text, his phone buzzes two times, short quick jolts of vibration. Those he mostly ignores until the level's done or he died or the episode has ended.

The continuous buzzing of an incoming call is a whole different story. He never gets called unless there's something definitely wrong with Kellin. Those are the nights he's too weak or too upset or too hurt to make his way to Justin's home alone, and when he finally finds the strength to call Justin, it's usually already gone to hell. That's why he even wakes up from continuous buzzing on his bedside table: Kellin needs him most those nights, and he is never going to fail his very best friend. He picks up and before Kellin can even tell him where he is, where Justin needs to pick him up, Justin's already slipping in his shoes, throwing on a jacket and taking one with him for Kellin, just to be sure, leaving the house in a rush.

 

Tonight is a night like this. It's fall, late October, and a storm is raging over the town they live in. Hard rain falls down on them, soaks everything in a matter of minutes, still, Justin doesn't even hesitate once to leave the flat in a rush as soon as he sees Kellin calling. He's got his shoes on and his jacket as well because his mum, his sister and he had just been grocery shopping – he just put the bags down on the counter. He throws his mum no more than an apologizing smile before he picks up, turning on his heels. He knows that, by now, because it's been like this for going on three years.

"Kellin" he all but breathes the name. "Where are you?"

"J-just 'round the block from h-home" Kellin answers, and his voice is thin, shaky. Justin can hear the rain pouring in the background, a car driving by. He jumps down the small set of stairs before he's down the staircase in his apartment building, rips open the door to run down the street. "Barely managed to – get away" He's breathing heavily, Justin realizes, doesn't have the air to talk large bits in one go. It means he either ran from his dad, got a heavy beating, or both. Probably both, Justin thinks when Kellin barely managed to leave his house.

"It's okay, I'm on my way. Stay on line, okay? I'll be right there, you'll be fine. Take deep breaths, for me, can you do that?" Justin keeps talking, even though he's running and he should use his air for that rather than talking. But he knows Kellin needs it, and he's gained some stealth ever since his soccer coach decided he would train them even harder because they barely missed championships last year and this year he wants to win the cup. So Justin runs, and he talks, and Kellin doesn't answer, but he can hear him breathing, whimpering sometimes, from whatever pain is hurting him. Every little whimper has Justin picking up speed even more. He must look like a madman, lightly dressed in a downfall like this, running with a hand pressing his phone to his ear, talking nonsense made to calm his best friend down.

He couldn't care less, because it means that he's with Kellin in barely five minutes even though he'd have needed almost fifteen had he walked as usual. He sees him long before he reached him – Kellin is sitting in the doorway to an abandoned building, only half-hidden from the rain because he's hunched over, arms wrapped tightly around his knees and head hanging low. Justin lowers his phone when he's within hearing range, and doesn't end the call until he's shouted Kellin's name and the boy lifted his head, met Justin's eyes.

Justin almost falls when he skits to a stop in front of Kellin; it wouldn't have made any difference. He looks at him for a second, breathing heavily, then falls onto his knees, strokes the long wet strands of black hair out of his face. Justin winces when he sees it, because there's blood running from a gash in Kellin's temple, a black eye forming and a split in his lip. His thumb touches Kellin's cheek softly, and the boy flinches.

"Shit, Kellin" Justin can't help but murmur, and Kellin sinks into his arms without protest when he pulls him in close, hugs him tightly to his chest. Justin has to fight back the urge to cry – he's Justin Hills, he does not cry. But it's Kellin, and he's hurt so bad, and he can't stand it anymore. It's worse than most times; usually, his father steers clear of Kellin's face, because he knows that when anybody finds out, he'll be doomed. But this time, he got Kellin good and hard, and when the sobs start to shake Kellin's fragile frame in Justin's arms, Justin can tell from every jump just how bad even that has to hurt Kellin.

"Come on, baby, let's get you home, shall we?" Justin murmurs quietly after a while of hugging Kellin on the dirty floor of the pavement in the pouring, freezing cold October rain. He only says this when the first flood of Kellin's crying has died down, because he knows that he can't rush Kellin just now. Kellin nods against his shoulder, and slowly eases his cramped, tight grip around Justin's chest. Justin doesn't really let go of him, wraps an arm around Kellin's waist to support him, also to keep him close. He's pretty sure he won't be able to let go of Kellin anytime soon, because as long as he's close and as long as he's in Justin's arms, Justin can keep him safe. He doesn't want Kellin hurt any more than he already is.

Together, they stumble their way back to Justin's flat. They're both dripping wet when they arrive, and Justin gets them straight into the bathroom. He hears the tv running in the living room, knows his mum is just in the other room, but he's also pretty sure that she already put his little sister to bed. He doesn't need her barging in right now. She shouldn't see this; but it's good to know that his mum is up still, and he can ask her for help should he need it. She's his rock, the one he turns to when everything about the situation overwhelms him because he can't change anything.

He puts Kellin down on the toilet seat, then starts undressing him. The wet shoes they left at the doorstep, but he's still in his soaked hoodie, his drenched jeans. He pries them off Kellin's body, tries not to flinch at every bruise he finds. Kellin's skin is white and pure, yet there are cuts from glass shreds over his sides and his arms – glass sheds, really, not cuts: Justin has pulled the glass from his skin himself four days ago – and bruises forming on his limbs, his ribs, his stomach, literally just wherever, blooming over the old ones in black and purple and red where the old ones were green and yellow and brown. It's a macabre piece of art, Justin thinks as he carefully rubs a towel over Kellin's skin to dry him off, warm him up, still murmuring nonsense along.

Kellin's passive, staring into nothing. He trusts Justin to take care of him, to get him to safety. Tonight, it doesn't fill Justin's heart with warmth; tonight, the cold is shaking his bones so bad he can barely see clear. He has the strong urge to kill Kellin's dad for the horrible things he's done to his boy. It gets so bad that Justin has to press a kiss to Kellin's forehead, tells him he's right back, just picking up some clothes, and leaves. Usually, he would dry himself next, hang the wet clothes over the clothes line, and then get them both into his room where he gets them a change of clothes. Tonight, he gets the clothes to the bathroom, because he needs a break to collect himself, to stop his hands from shaking. When he returns, Kellin is shaking, both from cold and from crying – tears are running down his cheeks again, and goosebumps are raised all over his skin. Still, Kellin stares into nothingness, doesn't do anything about his tears or his cold.

It breaks Justin's heart. He's quick to undress, then helps Kellin out of his wet boxershorts and gets him to put on one of Justin's. It should be weird, and it used to be weird, but by now the motions come natural to them – Justin's even used to Kellin's hands holding onto his shoulders to steady himself. It's a little bit like dressing a child, he thinks – he used to do the same to his little sister before she became old enough to do it on her own. He helps Kellin into his sweatpants as well, but leaves him shirtless a while longer, so he can put bandaids on the reopened cuts on his torso, smear some soothing lotion over the bruises, then patches up the cut on his temple carefully – because they've always got stuff for these occasions stashed in the bathroom, now. Only then he allows Kellin to pull the sweatshirt over his head, and only when Kellin's properly dressed he puts on his own change of clothes.

They get into bed right away, and Kellin's still shivering, still crying when they do. He curls up into Justin's chest right away, and Justin doesn't hesitate to pull him close. He's done this so many times, press kisses to his head and whisper silent nothings while Kellin clutched onto him like he was the only thing keeping him alive, yet he's still surprised by how small Kellin feels in his arms. They're the same height, Justin used to be smaller until a few months ago, yet now Kellin is so small in his arms Justin is afraid he might break him. Kellin is so small, so broken, and Justin doesn't even know what happened tonight that has Kellin so badly shaken but it doesn't matter, because no matter what it was Kellin doesn't deserve it. He deserves nothing but the best and everything that Justin can give him he will get.

It's why he lets him sleep over a lot, it's why Kellin has clothes in Justin's dresser, it's why he doesn't hesitate to share his room, his food, his family with Kellin. It's why he fucks him and kisses him even though they are both not in love. Justin loves him, thinks he's the most precious thing in the world, and he would do everything just to get a smile back on Kellin's face. He deserves the world, he deserves happiness, and he does not deserve what his father puts in his way. He doesn't deserve to be abused so badly, doesn't deserve that his mother left him. And Justin can't compensate that, but he can give him comfort and a good fuck and everything that Kellin needs. It doesn't matter what it is because Kellin is his best friend, he loves him.

So Justin holds him, doesn't tell him that it'll be okay because neither of them is really certain of that right now but tells him he's there, because when everything fails that's still the thing that they will always have, even years later when they're famous and touring the world and Kellin is married to a beautiful woman and has a little daughter he adores, when they don't kiss and fuck anymore, cuddle only when they both need it desperately and aren't more than two crazy guys in a crazy band: Justin will always be there for him.


End file.
